


Full Circle, Part I

by alynwa



Series: Triple A [7]
Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa





	Full Circle, Part I

Alan made the call sometime after midnight. He had been sitting in the study nursing an eight ounce glass of scotch for hours; working up the courage to face the reality of his situation, looking for the strength he needed at the bottom of his drink. It was Thursday October 16, 2014. 

  


From January 2009 through December 2012, the experimental drug the Supreme Court had cleared the way for Denny Crane to take had worked beyond both their wildest expectations. It worked so well, in fact, that Alan did not open his Legal Aid practice until after they had been married for three years. They had spent the first three years of their marriage fishing, traveling and simply enjoying life and each other. Though their marriage was sexless, it was far from loveless. If possible, they became even closer, better friends than when they first married.

  


_But, that was then and this is now,_ he thought sadly as he sipped his scotch,  _and now, Denny lies dying inch by inch upstairs. I have to call Adrienne; I promised both of them I would when the time came. It’s just, it’s just when I make this call, it means I can’t deny anymore that the end is coming, it’s really coming. And, I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready._

  


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In her Montrose, Colorado split level house, Adrienne had just decided to get ready for bed when her phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she noted it was 10:35 and that Alan was the caller.  _This can’t be good; it’s 12:35AM in Boston._

  


“Alan? What’s going on?” She could hear him trying to speak. “Sweetie?”

  


Alan’s voice answered her sounding both tired and strained, “Denny’s taken a turn for the worse. I’d, um, I’d really appreciate it if you could come to Boston as soon as you can.” He was trying very hard not to break down.  _The time for tears will be here soon enough._

  


“Oh, Alan, I am so sorry. I have to make some calls to hand off my cases to my partners. I’ll text you my travel information as soon as I arrange it. Hang on, Alan. Hang in there, I’m on my way,” soothed Adrienne. You don’t maintain a close friendship with someone for more than forty years and not know how to read him emotionally.  _He’s on the edge,_ she thought.  “Don’t worry about anything; everything is going to be okay.”

  


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Deplaning at Boston’s Logan Airport after touching down on time at 8:45PM the next night, Adrienne walked toward the baggage claim area while keeping an eye out for a sign with her name on it. Not seeing one, she concentrated on retrieving her luggage from the carousel.  _Why are my bags always the last friggin’ ones to come down the slide?,_ she thought irritably as she watched person after person haul suitcases off the contraption and head for the exits. Finally, she saw her two bags, grabbed them and turned just as a man in a black suit lifted a sign with “A. Peyton” written on it in bold black letters.

  


She walked up to him and announced, “I’m Adrienne Peyton.”

  


The man responded, “Hi, Ms Peyton, I’m Dave, Denny and Alan’s chauffeur.” He dumped the sign in the trash, took her bags and then led the way to the parking lot. “How was your flight?” he asked.

  


“There was some turbulence but, not too bad and call me Adrienne. OK?”

  


Dave smiled as he opened the rear door to let her into the car. “OK, Adrienne,” he replied. He jogged around to the driver’s side, got in, started the limo and pulled out of the parking lot As he expertly negotiated the traffic as they headed to the Crane suburban home, he remarked, “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn Adrienne but, I gotta tell ya I am really happy that you’re here. I’ve heard your name mentioned a few times over the years so, I know you mean a lot to Alan and Denny. Alan needs you here; I hope you can help him. He needs a friend.”

  


Adrienne, who had been pretending to watch the lights and exits go by as her thoughts swirled in her mind, caught Dave’s eyes in the rearview mirror and answered softly, “I’m glad I’m here, too” before turning her gaze back to what little scenery she could make out through the window.  _It remains to be seen if I can help him._

  


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Adrienne was sitting in the living room where Rodeo had brought her sipping the cup of tea he had provided for her. “Alan is upstairs with Denny; he’s aware that you are here and asked that you wait here for him,” he had said as he showed her into the tastefully decorated room. The fireplace was lit and she stared into the flames trying to find shapes in them to pass the time. Twenty minutes later, Alan came into the room looking like the proverbial weight of the world was on his shoulders.

  


He walked straight over to her and she stood wordlessly and pulled him into a hug. He put his arms around her as he dropped his head onto her shoulder and allowed her to rub his back and slowly rock him from side to side. She felt some of the tension in his body leave him as he took several deep breaths. She kissed his cheek and leaned back to look at him. He saw the question in her eyes.

  


“Today was a bad day, Adrienne. Denny was verbally fighting with his nurses; he was arguing with me, he was confused about what day it was, what year…” He pulled her back to him and laid his head back on her shoulder for a moment. Sighing heavily, he broke the embrace and tilted his head toward her cup of tea. “Do you have any whiskey in that tea?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Do you  _want_ some whiskey in that tea?”

  


Adrienne grinned and replied, “I would prefer a glass of red wine. Care to join me?”

  


Alan smiled for the first time in he couldn’t remember when. “I would love to have a glass of wine with you.” They sat on the couch while he used the intercom to ask Rodeo to bring two glasses and two bottles of Australian Shiraz sauvignon. In response to Adrienne’s raised eyebrow, he said, “I hope you’re not too tired; I really,  _really_ need to vent and maybe get your insight on a lot of stuff.”

  


“Alan, I deliberately got up early this morning and ran myself ragged packing, updating my partners on the status of the cases I was handing over to them, booking my flight and arranging for someone to drop me off at Montrose Regional Airport. I was tired on the flight to Denver but forced myself to stay awake until I boarded my Boston flight. I never even felt us take off; I woke up about thirty minutes outside of Logan. I am wide awake and focusing all my attention on you. Talk to me.”

  


At that moment, Rodeo arrived with a tray loaded down with different kinds of cheese and crackers and two stemless red wine glasses. The wine he carried in a wine tote. He opened a bottle and poured the contents into each glass and placed it on the coffee table next to the tray. “Will there be anything else, sir?” he asked formally and when Alan smiled and shook his head  _No_ , he said, “Thank you, sir, good night.”

  


“Good night, Rodeo!” they said in unison.

  


“Thank you for everything, Rodeo!” Adrienne added as she watched him close the living room French doors to give them even more privacy even though Alan was reasonably sure that his Major Domo was on his way to join his wife in the servants’ quarters which meant that the security guard, Leon, was the only regular employee out and about on the property and he wouldn’t start checking the house interior until after they went to bed. Denny’s nurses had no reason to come into the living room.

  


Alan handed a glass to Adrienne and they clinked glasses and tasted the wine. Adrienne looked at Alan expectantly. 

“Adrienne, the drug stopped working earlier this year but, even worse, it seems to have sped up the progression of the disease. He’s gone from the early stage symptoms of Alzheimer’s to moderate stage symptoms within six months. He’s frustrated continually because he keeps forgetting what things are called so, he refers to everything as ‘whatchamacallit.’ He becomes furious if the nurse, staff or I don’t know what he is talking about. He can’t read anymore because he can no longer concentrate; he’s not coordinated enough anymore to be able to write or type. He took a nasty fall two months ago. Thankfully, he didn’t break anything but, he wrenched his knee horribly. He’s been bedridden ever since. Dr. Forrester said he still, for the moment, is coordinated enough to walk with a cane or maybe a walker but, he won’t. He’s afraid of falling again. I can’t say that I blame him. I moved into the bedroom next to ours when I hired fulltime nursing staff to care for him. I, I miss him in bed with me; I haven’t slept through the night since.”

  


_Adrienne, don’t cry!_ she thought and looked away quickly to compose herself.  _He needs me, I can’t let him down. If he’s got the strength and guts to live it, I should at least have the strength and guts to listen to him tell it without falling apart._ She looked back at Alan when she realized he had stopped speaking.

  


He freshened his drink and was swirling the liquid while apparently lost in thought. “This evening, Denny became extremely agitated. He was throwing things; he didn’t recognize me or the nurse who’s been with him sixty hours a week for the last two months. He…he lost control of his bladder.”

  


“Oh, Alan,” she breathed.

  


He took a deep swallow of his wine. “When that happened, it shocked him into silence for a few seconds and then, he burst into tears. When you arrived, I was helping the nurse change him and the bedding.” He looked abjectly miserable. “Adrienne, I think it’s time. It’s  _past_ time,” he whispered fiercely.

  


She exhaled loudly and slid closer to him. “I think you’re right,” she agreed and put her arm around him when he laid his head on her chest and began to weep. She didn’t think he wanted her to say anything so she didn’t. She rubbed his back and when he stopped snuffling and sat up, she got up and picked up the tray with the glasses and gestured for him to grab the second bottle of wine. He used his free hand to open the living room door and followed her out.

  


Rodeo had placed her bags in the guest room on the other side of the one Alan was currently occupying. She walked into the room and placed the tray on the round cherry wood table that sat next to the window. She took the bottle from his hand and filled both their glasses. She took a sip from her glass and said, “I’d like to see Denny.”

  


“He’s sleeping; the nurse gave him a mild sedative.”

“I won’t wake him. It’s just…I  _need_ to see him to make it real for me. We have some profound stuff to talk about and I need to have no illusions about his condition. Can you understand?”

  


Alan nodded, “Of course. Come with me.” 

  


They walked into the master bedroom and nodded to the nurse who smiled and left the room to give them privacy. Denny was sleeping peacefully; flat on his back with his arms outside the blanket at his sides. His snoring was steady but, soft and every once in awhile, he would make what he called his “pig noise.” Adrienne moved so that she was standing near the head of the bed.  _He looks cold to me,_ she thought as she lifted his arm gently and placed it under the covers. Alan nodded and did the same thing to Denny’s other arm. Adrienne watched him for a few more minutes; she took her right hand, kissed her fingers and placed them against his temple. She backed away from the bed and turned to leave.

  


Adrienne stopped in front of Alan’s room. “Why don’t you put your jammies on and come back to my room?” She didn’t wait for an answer; just kept heading to her room. By the time Alan came in, she had changed into her preferred sleepwear; an oversized T – shirt and was sitting at the round table. She motioned for him to join her. “Tell me, Alan,” she said as she reached for a piece of brie, “it must be so hard to reconcile that serene looking man in there with the person he’s become when he’s awake. How have you been dealing with all this?”

  


Alan sat on the edge of the bed and shrugged. “I don’t go in to see him asleep for one thing. Tonight I did only because I wanted to go in with you. I discovered that watching him night after night was making me an emotional wreck. When he’s asleep, he looks like the old  _Denny Crane_ and I would find myself thinking ‘Maybe tomorrow will be better, maybe tomorrow the medication will start working again.’ And when tomorrow would come and things were unchanged, I would feel devastated all over again. He’s not even  _on_ the drug anymore; Dr. Forrester determined that it was starting to do more harm than good. Unfortunately, stopping the medication did nothing to slow the progress of the disease.”

  


“The biggest horror, Adrienne, the reason I’ve waited to honor Denny’s wishes is:  _Some days Denny is lucid!_ Granted, they are few and far between but, they still happen.”

  


Adrienne forced her face not to register the shock she felt. “When was his last lucid day?”

  


He ran his hand across his face and scooted back until his back was against the headboard. “A week ago Wednesday. I was heading out with Dave when Rodeo sent me a text that said Denny was asking for me. I ran up to the bedroom and he was sitting there smiling at me. He said he just wanted to watch a movie with me so, we did. It was so like old times, I dared to hope he was coming back to himself. We watched a movie and then we talked about my practice and he was asking me intelligent, appropriate questions about the cases he had been working on before the illness made him stop. It was wonderful.”

  


Adrienne got on the bed and sat next to Alan. “It sounds wonderful. How long was he…himself?” 

He looked over at her. “Do you know what ‘sundowning’ is, Adrienne?”

  


She closed her eyes for a moment to think and then responded, “Isn’t that when a person with Alzheimer’s starts exhibiting symptoms like mood swings, disorientation and hallucinating in the afternoon or early evening?”

  


“Yes, it is. Denny is a sundowner; it supposedly has something to do with circadian rhythms but, no one knows for sure. Anyway, everything was fine until suddenly, Denny got this outraged look on his face and shouted at me ‘ _What_ did you just say to me?’ Adrienne, I swear I had not said a word;  _he_ was speaking! I never did find out what he thought he heard. He threw me out of the room and gave his nurses hell right up until he fell asleep for the night.”

  


Adrienne pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Alan, has Dr. Forrester mentioned to you that Alzheimer’s patients with Sundown Syndrome deteriorate faster than those who don’t?”

  


“Well,  _someone_ has been doing their research! I’m impressed and yes, he did tell me. That’s what pushed me to decide that it’s time to have his…pain managed.”

  


“Have you spoken to Dr. Forrester about Denny’s…pain management? Is he on board with handling it? Alan, the last thing I want is for you to be stressed out by a court battle.”

  


Alan walked to the round table, divided the last of the wine between the two glasses and returned to the bed where he handed one to Adrienne and then returned to his spot. “Adrienne, five years ago, I represented a coworker of mine when she wanted her father’s ‘pain managed.’ She and I both suffered tremendously during that court appearance. I nearly drove  _myself_ to tears in my closing statement. Her father’s Alzheimer’s was much more advanced than Denny’s and he and I both saw what he had devolved into: A former brilliant legal mind that couldn’t comprehend anything; speechless, lying in his own filth…. Denny made me promise I wouldn’t let him get to that point. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Forrester and he will do what I ask when I ask it.”

  


Adrienne put her head down and murmured, “’When’ is the operative word.” She placed her glass on the night table, grabbed the bedding and slid underneath it until she was flat on her back looking up at Alan. “I know you’re thinking soon otherwise you wouldn’t have called me,” she said as a matter of fact. She patted the bed next to her.

  


Alan got under the covers and put his hands behind his head. Sighing deeply, he said, “I didn’t tell you: Denny was in the courtroom during that closing. He heard what I said about him trusting me to know when the time has come to still that wild, foolish heart of his and end his life. Later on that evening, he told me I was right. He  _does_ trust me to know but…”

  


She turned to face him. “But what, Alan?” she asked quietly.

  


“ _What if I’m wrong?_ What if this isn’t the right time?” Alan’s voice was ragged with pain. He stifled a sob.

  


“Alan, one thing that Denny and I have always had in common is our complete and utter faith and trust in you. Your heart has never misled you or us. What is your heart telling you?”

  


A tear escaped the corner of Alan’s right eye and slid down toward his ear. He turned to face Adrienne so she could gather him into her arms. “It’s saying that the time has come.”

  


She kissed his forehead and settled in to go to sleep. “Then it has. We can talk tomorrow about who you want to come say goodbye.”

  


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When Alan woke up the next morning, he saw Adrienne sitting at the table dressed, drinking coffee and looking at her laptop screen. “Good morning,” he grumbled as he raked his hand over his face, “What time is it and how long have you been up?”

  


“Morning, Sweetie. It’s just after eight and I’ve been up since about five. “

  


Alan was heading toward the bathroom. “ _What?_ Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked as he closed the door.

  


She raised her voice so he could hear. “For what? You said you hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. I showered, dressed, went downstairs to the kitchen and Olympia made me something to eat and a pot of coffee that I brought back up here.” When Alan came out of the bathroom, she poured him a cup and put it in front of the other chair. “Black, right?” she asked.

  


He sat at the table and took a sip. “Right,” he answered, “What are you doing?”

  


“I just finished taking care of my email. I was reading the Montrose Daily Press online. The biggest news is the local medical marijuana shop was robbed again. Same stuff, different day.”

  


Alan nodded and took a bite of the buttered roll that had been on the tray. They sat in companionable silence for awhile, Alan sipping coffee and eating, Adrienne perusing the internet. Finally, he looked at her and said, “After you went to sleep, I thought about who I would let come here to say goodbye. There are many people I will invite to the public memorial, a precious few I will invite to the private service but, only one other besides you that I will allow into that room to speak to him.”

  


Adrienne smiled knowingly. “Shirley,” she stated.

  



End file.
